


A painful time

by River_boi



Category: Fanboy & Chum Chum (Cartoon), Original Work
Genre: Other, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 13:40:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,019
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29917752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/River_boi/pseuds/River_boi
Summary: I was torn between whether or not I should post this under fanboy and chum chum but I decided to as Segmund is an oc and this will likely have fbacc characters such as sigmund or Callum in it depending on if I continue it.Warning there will be violence and themes of depression and painful subjects present
Kudos: 1





	A painful time

**Author's Note:**

> Hey emma baby, since you like your nasty fics; heres how to do one properly. 
> 
> This is your, the readers, final warning about this book/fic. Read with caution

Time stood still, it felt like. The heavy laboured breaths of the scrawny and weakened boy were the only indication of life in the area, besides the screams that arrived in muffled tones from many rooms away. He tried to ignore the sounds of pain as he let his heavy eyes fall shut, he needed rest, His body told him so, it told him that if he didn't he'd most certainly lose the next time he's out there, which for a moment, hadn't sounded quite that bad, but he knew it would be. Especially if he didn't die out there, knowing what some of these disgusting excuses for humans did to the losers. 

He didn't want to go out there again, but he didn't want to go back more. He didn't want to return to violent and often even more painful work he'd be forced to do back at that damned apartment. He didn't want to return to the thing he'd been running from the most. 

Funny isn't it. Funny how The fist fights that often ended in death were less violent than what took place in those rooms, and funny how the screams hurt less to hear when it was from the pain of getting their faces bashed in. It was hard to explain why this place, this horrid smelling place of death, was better than the bed he'd had back there. He felt his body go stiff as he fell deep into the sleep he desperately craved. God was being merciful today. 

The screams didn't disrupt him, not this time, as sleep hadn't been a choice but something he desperately needed, something he desperately wanted. He was grateful for it, even in a place like this, there were the few and far between things to appreciate, even if it wasn't Often he'd find something worth appreciating. 

__________________________________

His body violently jerked him awake after what felt like seconds, but in reality had been hours. He didn't feel rested, in fact he felt more tired than he had before he was yanked off to sleep. An incoherent grumble seeped out of his mouth as he sat up, shaking from the effort it took from his weak and tired Body. A silent wish that he'd stayed home that night crossed his mind, if he'd just waited a little longer maybe he wouldn't be here. But, where else could he be? 

He was 16 now, technically, a legal adult back in his home country but this was far from home. Far from Europe even, he wasn't an adult here in America, barely even old enough to get that little piece of plastic that says he understood their driving laws. Hell he barely understood their language, so what else would have he been able to do? 

He'd gone with her because she spoke his language and promised to help, but she did anything but. She took him to a new country, hurt him in such a way he'd never be the same, and brought him to a place where his damned powers would do exactly what he didn't want them to. 

He sniffled. And again, and once more. As another sniffle rung out, so did the sounds of a man trying to not let himself sob uncontrollably did too. "Shape up dammit.. you're strong, you'll deal with this.." He would, eventually, but not in a very healthy way. 

"FUCK!" He screamed, through the sobs and the tears, the one word he was certain he knew in English. Two years and he barely knew coherent sentences. "Goddammit why!?" His breathing became heavy again, but this time out of anger rather than weakness. Adrenaline filled his body, bringing all the power in him to the surface, to the one place he could do the most harm with it. 

His hand lifted, and moved swiftly from its raised position to the stone wall beside him as he slammed right into it. It cracked, as he expected, under his strength. His eyes followed the trail of splitting concrete with his ruby red eyes, following as it split into different paths of thin separations. 

Something about it almost felt, symbolic, in the moment, but he didn't understand it in the moment. In this moment, he was nothing but pain and rage stuffed into a single frail boy, as he slammed the side of his scratched up and now bleeding hand into the wall again. And again, and again, repeatedly until his hand was raw and nasty and continued leaking the vital red liquid. 

He pulled his hand away from the wall, noticing the red mark hed left, he pulled his hand up to start at it. He almost saw the bone in his hand from where itd scraped against the rough and coarse wall, he slowly blinked as if he couldn't register what he'd done. 

The scream came moments later as the searing pain fully hit him, the exposed flesh mixed with the air only pained him more and more, holding it hurt much more than the air did so he didn't have much of an option. His panic had focused him in on the hand in front of him losing blood quicker than he'd like, while not fatal, to a child like him it still was a terrifying thing to see and even more painful to feel. His body felt light as his stomach flipped like it was doing an aerobics routine and his mind had gone fuzzier than the insides of a cheap stuffed bear. His mind didn't even register the sounds of the large metal door opening and the heels that clacked against the damp and nasty floor. 

His body gave out moments later, finding his face smashing into the floor and scraping that up as well, leaving it a red and irritated mess much like this hand. Though unlikely, he silently prayed today would be his last, somehow, whether that was escaping somehow or death, wished it would be true. Only time would tell what was to come, and he hoped like hell it was something good, or something worth living through. 


End file.
